The Blueprint
by Jtoasn
Summary: It is said that travelling is the best way to find oneself, and for Harry James Potter, it seems the only option. All his life he has been told who he was, who he is meant to be, but they've never fit what he thinks of himself. Now, he is on a strange path to find who he is, and he is looking in a Universe far different from his own. Alternate Universe. Potters Alive. Post-Books.


_Chapter One._

It had been the coldest winter on record for England. Electricity lines were frozen. Cars buried under snow and ice. The streets were slicked and dangerous. Over 20 people had died on the roads. And Harry James Potter, the chosen one and the defeater of Lord Voldemort… was far away from that.

It was his fourth year away from his legacy, away from the world that he had saved. He was living in Sweden, a small town outside of Malmo, where hardly anyone knew him. He felt different here, and he _was_ different here. He didn't have the worries of school, of friends, of girlfriends… _ex_-girlfriends. He was merely an individual man living his life as best he could.

He did without magic for most of the time. When he had gone to Malmo he had received his driver's license, and he now had a mortgage on a small house. He had his dogs, strays that he found on the streets and brought home, he'd wash them and feed them, take them to the vet and then sell them off to people that needed them more. They were farm animals, used to round up cattle, and Harry hated to take them away from that.

He only remained with one, Roger, a golden retriever with a shining coat and splotches of brown on his feet. He was the only friend that Harry needed; he was the only one that he was content with. Ron and Hermione come over to visit sometimes, but Harry tried to keep himself busy with other things. He realised after schooling that six years of halting education hadn't prepared him for anything in the world. He still couldn't master basic healing spells, though he could produce a patronus.

He remembered that his mother used to be very good at Charms, and his father Transfiguration, and Snape had his potions. Harry was only his best at Defence against the Dark Arts, but he wanted to be more than that.

So he collected all of his things and he began to study once more. It was a correspondence course, under another name, but Harry had his time to study, he understood things better by himself, and so he studied better without the restrictions. After four years, Harry thought himself to be at a stage where he could even rival Hermione – not in brains but in skill and he thought of what he would like to be. He couldn't just be that lone English man in Malmo. He wanted to be something else.

"What about a teacher?" Hermione suggested as she sat down with him. They were eating sandwiches at the kitchen table and Harry shrugged.

"I thought about it, but I don't want to be Harry Potter."

"What about the name that you chose for the correspondence, I know you didn't use Harry Potter."

"Walter Jones." He said, and he saw her smirk. The name was of an incredibly handsome character in a book he found in her room, when they had been packing to go to Ron's house. He hadn't let her live it down yet.

"How suitable."

He smiled at her, "Thank you. I don't think I could though. I… everyone knows me, I can do charms to change my appearance but I don't want to hide. I don't want to be anything other than what I am. And I'll never have that. I'm not going to have a normal life Hermione, that was never in the cards for me."

She looked at him, and she nodded. He was right of course. He couldn't be Walter Jones. He was Harry Potter.

"We'll figure something out Harry."

He nodded, "Thanks. But I don't think there's anything you could do."

But despite his reluctance and his defeatist attitude, Hermione _did_ go in search of something, in search of something that would help her best friend figure out his life a bit more. But what she found wasn't what she intended, and at their next lunch, she was hesitant to tell him about it.

"What is it?"

"It's a spell." She said, and she took a deep breath, hesitant. "Harry it's very dangerous, and very illegal."

"Like we haven't done that before."

She looked at him, she saw the hope in his eyes and the expression that told her that he wanted this, he needed this, he had to be somewhere else. Somewhere that he could just be himself, without even really being himself.

"It will take some time to do."

"Time is all I have Hermione."

She looked at him, and she nodded, and she told him. He looked at her, disbelieving it. It couldn't be true. But she had that look in her eyes that was telling him it was true, that it was possible, and he blinked and took a deep breath, his eyes opening and determined.

"Well if anyone can do it. It's the brightest witch of her age."

Time seemed to speed up as the two of them worked on the spell, as they studied it's intricacies and details. It was not an easy spell, it wasn't even a difficult spell, it was impossible. And for the main reason, because it was dangerous.

The universe we live in is one of billions. Each decision that we make creates timelines and universes. From deciding to wear blue or green socks in the morning, or having a shower in the morning or the evening. Everything changes at choices. And so, to pinpoint one universe in a handful of others, and to transport yourself to it. It would be easier to find a blunt needle, in a pile of needles, at the bottom of Marianus Trench with only a flashlight.

And yet they persevered.

"I think I found it."

And that was the end of that discussion.


End file.
